I got an email today that said I had 62 days left until my due date. I always told myself I’d start freaking out for real when I was under 10 weeks — well guess what guys, we’re there.
I can say one thing — the crib is here and the mattress is here, and the dresser will be here tomorrow. I’m not joking when I say there is still so much left to do.
Last week, I had my first appointment where the appointments start being two weeks apart instead of four. My doctor scheduled another scan — a growth scan he called it — for next week. Of course, I freak out and take to the internet. Doctor said I wouldn’t be scanned anymore, so it worried me that I was getting another one. I’ve said it before and will say it again — nothing good can come from reading the internet, especially when you’re pregnant.
By the time I was done, I was convinced that my kid was completely undersized, he wasn’t getting enough nourishment, and I was going to have a low-birth weight baby.
So after a night of worrying, I called the nurse the next morning. She said there was nothing abnormal in my chart, and assured me that the scan is most likely due to me taking injectable blood thinner every day — and even if he is measuring small, there are plenty of reasons for it. Either way, getting to talk to the nurse made me feel a little better. I’ve tried to not worry about it, because worry and stress at this point is not doing anyone any good.
Besides being incredibly tired all day every day, I’m feeling pretty good. I’ve still gotten pretty lucky on the pregnancy symptoms front — I’ve only had two instances of heartburn — and sleep comes and goes. Sometimes Sheffield will keep me up at night with his strong kicks, and others it feels like he knows I need a break. All in all, I am just ready to meet this little guy, and I’m so glad we’re so close.
(bonus points if you noticed I chopped a whopping 6 inches off my hair — best decision I ever made)